Tags
clothes, erotica, fiction, narcissism, passion, Red, sensuality, short story
He was sitting at the edge of the tub in my mind’s eye. His right foot very close to my left thigh. “Stay there,” I warned. I didn’t want him to get any closer. I continued scrubbing myself, aware that his eyes would be following the sponge as it moved all over my body.
I stepped out of the tub and walked into the adjoining wardrobe. I saw him get out and follow me from the corner of my eye.
I had to attend an art event later in the night. Some new artist was putting up an extremely provocative exhibition of her work and the dress code demanded the audience suit up (or rather down) accordingly. I was fine with that. My wardrobe was brimming with bits and pieces picked up from every high-end adult shop I came across on my travels. I always bought, but rarely donned. In public that is.
He grunted with approval as I selected a gown in fine velvet and coloured a dark crimson and watched me slide into it. My breasts delicately held up the front; the back, or rather the lack of it, began and rested snugly on my rump. The gown demanded an undergarment that screamed confidence, so I wore none. The fabric slithered and lovingly kissed my legs as I moved. I would have said caressed, but it didn’t skim my skin as caresses are wont to do – it clung to my skin for a bit, outlining my lines then moving on to dip along some other curve. Like a loving kiss is meant to do.
I admired myself in the mirror, twisting and turning to see how the soft lights in my wardrobe played with the rich velvet. The lighting at the gallery would be blessedly dim and I smiled satisfactorily at the thought of all the reds dipping into blacks and dangerously intertwining along the right curves. I would want to sink my teeth into a package like that and I licked my lips in anticipation of the salivating I would induce when I entered the gallery. Oh, how I loved it when the mirror reflected my polished amour-propre!
“Rich cloth moving on pampered skin can be maddening. Don’t you think so darling?” I cocked an eyebrow at him, my mouth twisting in amusement at his very prominent agreement at that thought and at the sight accompanying it.
I leaned forward to line my eyes in a thick line with kohl and paint my thin lips a shade of glistening crimson. The gown outlined the length of my back perfectly and I could tell he wanted to tear off the fabric at my rump and clutch at the naked skin underneath. I wouldn’t have been able to control the urge were I in his place. I straightened up and reached for the pair of shoes I had purchased especially for this gown.
There are few colours and shades that go with crimson, but none complement the decadence and sin captured within that particular shade of red better than gold. I had long, narrow feet and I revelled in showing them off with shoes that were barely there. Thin strips of subdued gold leather running across a sandal hitched high on four inched heels were my footwear of choice. The skin peeping through the delicate shoe would be a fine contrast to the reds and golds in my ensemble, I thought.
He apparently agreed with the idea and I saw him drawing a bit closer to where I was. I continued my little display and drew out a winding choker made of delicate filigree in gold from the dresser. The ornament was worthy of inciting even a nun’s everlasting envy and I purred with satisfaction as I wound it around my neck.
A bracelet of minuscule gold drops tinkled in quiet chimes as I closed it with a click. It made my wrist sparkle and nearly hid the marks the rope had left on it.
One benefit of washing long hair that waved is the wild mess it leaves. Pile up waves of dark, rich brown hair carelessly and secure it with a wire of faceted gold and it looks glorious.
I looked at myself in the mirror one last time and realised he was right behind me. His hands were reaching out to touch my crimson haze. I looked into his eyes and blew him a kiss and watched him slowly fade with unquenched thirst etched miserably into his face.
How I loved playing with the men who lived in my mind!
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Yum. Mmmn.
On a side-note, the literary worth of this piece is remarkable, the beginning more than the conclusion. If this were a book, I’d stock it with ‘Literary Fiction’ rather than ‘Erotica’.
You understand red well.
Gorgeous, gorgeous imagery. “I leaned forward to line my eyes in a thick line with kohl and paint my thin lips a shade of glistening crimson.” Wow. You don’t need to use mildly graphic words like “breasts” and “rump”. This one line alone does it!
I agree with Lady Red above. This is too beautifully written to be purely erotica. I can literally smell the freshly shampooed hair and hear the smooth fabric slide over the body. Keep them coming!
Both of you, thank you for the ‘Literotica’ tag.
And yes Lady Red, I am too intimate with the nuances of this particular colour and the mood it inspires. Unlike your familiarity with the entire spectrum (if I recall correctly, you had a neat post on this), this is the only one I love enough to unabashedly explore.
And Brouhoho, you call those words mildly graphic when they are entirely so? I’m shocked! (but chuckling away)
wow , imagination at its best !